Waiting For Us [COMPLETED]

chapter 5 - breakdown

Talia:

When we arrive back home from the hospital, Jess and I just sit in the car for a few more minutes. I noticed our mom's car in our driveway first, prompting the both of us to avoid walking through the front door. I trace my fingers along my bandaged hand and close my eyes.

"Hey, come on, Lia, I'm sure she won't be mad," Jess tries to reassure me.

I open my eyes and turn my head to look at my sister. I raise my eyebrow and say, "Remember two years ago when you broke your ankle playing soccer, and mom complained about having to leave work early to pick you up from the hospital. I know this isn't as severe as that, but she always finds a way to place the blame for an accident."

Jess frowns and stares again at the front door. "You're going to have to go in there eventually."

"I know," I state plainly.

Opening the car door, I step out and begin making my way into the house. Jess is close behind me when I cross the threshold and proceed to walk into the kitchen.

Unsurprisingly, my mom is working at the table with what seems to be nine binders and endless sheets of paper. I'm now even more scared to talk to her, knowing that she will be in a deep train of thought and would rather remain uninterrupted. Once my foot hits the wrong floor beam, however, there is no turning back from this confrontation.

She glances up from her work to look and me, exhaling deeply in the process. "I got a call from the nurse today."

My fingers find each other and start to pick at the skin around my nails. It's a nervous habit. One I can never seem to stop doing near my parents. My mom, specifically.

"They said that Jess was taking you to the hospital to get stitches on your hand after an injury," my mom states, as if I hadn't just experienced this. "Why did you have this injury?"

"The flask at the lab station was too close to the edge of the table and whe—"

"And why was the flask on the edge? Shouldn't you have noticed something like that earlier?" she demands, interrupting my explanation. She always does this.

"As I was sayin—"

"Don't give me any attitude, just tell me why you were oblivious to the flask being on the edge of the table."

At her tone of voice and harsh words, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I don't even think I gave her any attitude, but she can believe or say whatever she wants. When I open my eyes I begin speaking again.